


Pandemic

by Hunter_Caprittarius



Category: Psych
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Character Swap, Fluff and Angst, How Do I Tag, Multi, No Slash, Psychic Abilities, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-01-10 19:04:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18414017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hunter_Caprittarius/pseuds/Hunter_Caprittarius
Summary: Carlton Lassiter (aka Lassie) has been a psychic for as long as he can remember. When his "gift" flared up a few years ago, Lassie's whole life got turned upside down.When Carlton gets tangled up with an annoying young detective, Shawn Spencer, and his partner, Gus, he drags his childhood friend,  Juliet, along for the ride.Things only get crazier from there.





	1. Chapter 1

Shawn Spencer was having a good day. It was one of those rare ones where everything works out ever so nicely. First of all, he'd solved a big case the day before–and was still riding off that success–and got to hit the hay as soon as he got home.

He'd pleasantly dreamt the night away and, even though he couldn't remember the dream, he woke up refreshed. His forgotten dream left him with a happy little tickled feeling.

The weather was just warm enough to not need extra layers and just cold enough to give Shawn an excuse to buy one of those overpriced coffees everyone's so wild about, not that he wouldn't have done so anyway. And if he caught a pair of attractive ladies sneaking a peak at him as he walked to work–well, it certainly didn't dampen his mood.

"Gus! My man!" Spencer called to his partner as he haphazardly tosssed the PD's doors open wide.

'Gus' rolled his eyes, "that's not may name, Shawn."

"Pff–you don't even like the name Burton."

Gus huffed indignantly, "I know, but nicknames aren't professional. "

"We've known each other too long for professional and you know it."

A strong bark came from across the room, "Spencer! Guster!". Cheif Vick was standing outside her office, waiting patiently, shoulders back with one brow raised in that no nonsense way.

Shawn turned to Gus and mouthed the word "case" before giving him a sideways wink and a thumbs up. Gus just rolled his eyes and got up to meet the Chief.

"Good morning boys. "

"Mornin' Vick! "

"Good morning Chief. "

Chief Vick simply led the two into her office. "Now, " she began, "I have a dead child on my hands and practically no leads. I know that you two only transferred a few weeks ago, but I'm going out on a limb here and giving this one to you. "

A wide smile bloomed across both detectives' faces. "I–"

"Don't!" Vick cut them off, "don't let me regret it. Now get out. "

"Yes, Chief! "

While Shawn was having a fantastic day on one side of town, Carlton Lassiter was having an awful time on the other side.

It had been one of those down in the dirt kind of days. The buzzing had been worse than ever and Carlton had woken up at five in the morning in a cold sweat, shaking as if in the middle of a blizzard, to the feeling of unbridled terror.

Fuck. It was his neighbors, a young couple, not long married. They'd moved in maybe a month ago and we're making Carlton's home life a bipolar disaster.

The husband, a handsome lad with a broad face, was an alcoholic, much like Lassiter. But unlike Lassie, he became uncontrollably violent when intoxicated. How he managed to seduce a pretty little thing like his wife was a mystery.

The wife loved her husband dearly, Lassiter could tell by the swells of affection that would fill his chest from time to time, but she was deathly afraid of him. His alcohol fueled rage was most often aimed at her.

They were at it again and Carlton had forgotten to take his medication again. Fear. Anger. Terror. Rage. The couple's emotions flashed across Lassiter's vision.

His heart swelled and thumped erratically and Lassiter saw red. Then his legs collapsed and his heart caved in on itself, his entire body shivering uncontrollably.

"S-s-stop."

It felt someone had taken a jackhammer to his chest and rigged his heart to explode. Red! White! Red! White!

Anger would take over and Lassiter's body would whip in to action, quivering with white-hot wrath, only for a smashing dread to pull the rug out from him and bash the side of his face into the floorboards.

A wave of anger. There–finally!–an opening! Lassiter used the husband's anger to hoist himself up and rip open his front door. Four long strides delivered him to the apartment right next to his, where Lassiter proceeded to rap his fist against the door so vigorously is sounded like rolling thunder.

"Open up! " Carlton boomed.

Just when it seemed like his knuckles we're going to get skinned to the bone, the door swung open. Lassiter found himself face to face with a furious man, red in the face with taut veins bulging out of his forehead and neck.

The moment the door opened, Lassiter's eyes flicked over the man's shoulder and fell on the poor wife: a mistake. The fear hit him like a brick wall.

Hands had seized him by the collar of his night shirt and Lassie was pulled right into the man's spitting face.

"You again?! How many times do I have to tell you, huh?"

Lassiter's back hit the guard rail and the man kept pushing. "Ah–" He was leaning over precariously now. He could feel the man's intent: kill.

"You listening to me bastard? LISTEN TO ME!"

Lassie felt his leg slip, aaahh! He was too close to going over the edge, way too close.

Words wouldn't form. His legs couldn't move. His arms hung uselessly at his sides.

Then the world jerked and for a second he'd been let go, he was going to die. In that second, Lassiter's life didn't flash before his eyes, in fact the only thing he could see was the parking lot below. Instead, he was filled with a sense of regret.

When you can feel what everyone around you feels, you tend to lose track of what's yours and what's someone else's. But it was certian, that regret was one hundred percent Lassiter's. It was regret over losing his job, regret over losing his wife, regret over losing control. Regret.

Then his collar jerked harshly, cutting into Lassiter's throat. The husband hadn't dropped him... Then what–

It was the little wife. She'd run out of the apartment and was beating on her husband's back, screaming, "No! No! Stop it! Stop it!" Tears had left trails down her face.

New emotions flooded into Lassiter from the wife: fear but also strength. He grabbed onto that strength and, gritting his teeth, punched the man in the throat. He scrambled away from the rail as the man fell.

"Put your hands behind your head and face the wall! "

Aw, shit.


	2. Chapter 2

Shawn pumped his fist in the air. "Yes! We got a case! A big case! Can you believe it Gus? "

"Yes, Shawn, I was there. "

"Ah hah hah! Hee hee hee! Yes!" Shawn danced around the desks doing a wierd little victory dance. He danced right into someone, namely Officer McNab.

"Whaddup Buzz?"

"Oh, not much, Detective Spencer, sir."

"Guess what!"

"What?"

"I told you to guess! C'mon!"

"Well, sir, I really don't know, I–"

Gus rolled his eyes, "Shawn, tell the poor kid already!"

"Alright alright!" Shawn proudly pulled out the case file, presenting it like jeweler might show off a diamond, and began explaining in detail every reason why it was such a complicated case and how Cheif Vick trusted his incredible skill.

On the other side of the precinct Carlton Lassiter was being dragged in. 

"Hey! Easy! My arms don't bend that way, asshole." 

The 'asshole' gave Lassiter an extremely unamused smile. Lassie could feel his annoyance and gave him a cheeky grin. This earned him a jerk to his handcuffs. 

Shawn was too busy showing off the pictures of the suspects to notice. So it took him by surprise when a lanky stranger leaned over and said, "it was the guy with the mustache, " before getting pulled away. 

Shawn, Gus, and Buzz stood quietly for a few moments before Shawn asked, "Wait, what?"

"Don't listen to him, Shawn," Gus td him, "probably just some crack head."

Shawn nodded but kept watching as the man was sat down in a chair and told strictly "Don't. Move." 

As the officer that had led the man in walked by, Shawn tapped him on the shoulder. "Who's you're buddy? "

The officer glanced back at the man, who now had his feet propped up on a second chair, and frowned. He pulled out his writing pad, "Carlton Lassiter, we got a call about a fight at an apartment complex. I'm gonna question him right after I question the other guy we brought in with him. "

Shawn, "I'd like to talk to him after you, you mind?"

The officer shook his head, "not at all. "

Fifteen minutes later Shawn Spencer was seated across from Carlton Lassiter in an interrogation room. 

"So, what happened?" Shawn asked casually. 

Lassiter sighed, he'd already told this to the last cop, "guy was beating his wife. I intervened. "

"How noble. "

"Look. Is there a point to this? Because I'd REALLY love to get out of here. "

"Alright! I was curious about what you said to me earlier, about this guy. " Shawn pulled out a picture of a well dressed man with a handlebar mustache, the man that Lassiter had claimed "did it. "

"What about him. He did it. I don't know what he did, but he did it. He's the culprit. "

At that point Shawn almost smacked his head on the table. This guy really was just some crack head who thought it would be funny to mess with a cop. He'd wasted his time talking to this buffoon when he should have been looking for actual leads. 

"I'm not a crack head. "

Shawn looked up, "pardon? "

Lassiter looked at him with his strange pale eyes, "I'm not a crack head. I'm a drunk. Thought I should clarify. "

"How did you–"

"I know your kind. Let me guess, always wanted to be a cop, probably can't do anything else. Maybe a parent encouraged you, started teaching you young. Drinkings not your thing, you're afraid of not being in control since your parents have problems, so it wouldn't be the first thing that comes to mind. But you're still a cop and in this part of town there's a lot of drugs, so it makes sense that you would assume that I'm just a crack head who doesn't know what he's talking about. Simple. "

Shawn was taken aback. But when he came to his senses he was furious. "Get. Out. "

Lassiter smiled, "Gladly. " Then he got up and left, leaving Shawn fuming in the interrogation room.


	3. Chapter 3

A week later Gordon Salley, a well dressed man with a handlebar mustache, was arrested and charged with the murder of a seven year old boy.

Only a few hours after the sentancing, Shawn Spencer found himself sitting cross from Carlton Lassiter in an interrogation room, _again_.

"How did you know about Gordon Salley? "

"I already told you, " said Lassiter, "I just know. "

"That's bullshit!" Shawn was getting tired of this, he was so sure Carlton Lassiter was hiding something, there was something more to this, but the man wouldn't give him anything!

"I'm going to step outside for a few minutes, ok? When I come back I expect you to have jogged your memory and be ready to tell me how you knew about Salley. If not, I am going to arrest you!"

Shawn placed Gordon Salley's picture on the table in front of Lassiter and left. He met Gus behind the one way mirror.

"You know, it could have just been coincidence." Gus said.

Shawn shook his head, glaring at Lassiter through the glass. "He knew, I'm sure of it."

After a few minutes of watching Lassiter look conflictedly at the picture of Gordon Salley, Shawn went back in.

"Ready to talk?" Shawn took his handcuffs off his belt and twirled them around his pointer finger for emphasis.

Lassiter looked at him, expression taut.

"I'm a psychic."

Shawn almost dropped his handcuffs, "excuse me?"

"I'm a psychic. I can see Gordon Salley's aura in the picture," Lassitee held up said picture, "it's scattered, which suggests panic, and the way it seems to sink suggests guilt. He did it." Lassiter used one of his long fingers to point to the area of the picture around Salley.

Shawn started laughing. He laughed so hard he just about fell to the floor.

"Oh my god! Isn't that just _COMICAL_? You're a psychic? You get one more try before I cuff you. "

"I can prove it. "

"Then prove it. "

"What's the name of the person back there?" Lassiter pointed at the one-way mirror.

"Gus. "

Lassiter heaved a heavy sigh before putting one hand over his eyes and leaning back, reaching the other hand towards the glass. This was completely unecessary for using his ability (''sensing' things or whatever), in fact, everything he was going to tell Shawn we're things he'd already sensed. But he decided to put on a bit of a show, if only to get on Shawn's nerves.

"This Gus is a friend of yours, I'm willing to bet you two have known each other for a long time, hmm? He's very fond of you but at the same time he finds you incredibly obnoxios. How surprising. On the other hand, you're also fond of him but you wish he took you more seriously sometimes. Oof, I'm afraid he won't take you seriously until you start acting like an adult."

Lassiter finished off by giving Shawn a cheeky grin.

He'd sensed while Shawn and Gus were talking behind the mirror. He only had the ability to feel what other people feel, he couldn't read thoughts. But even so, human emotions are incredibly complex and just one feeling can tell you all sorts of things if you know how to read it. He had made some guesses of course, but nothing too drastic.

Shawn said nothing, just got up and left again.

"Oh my God! He said he's a psychic!"

"I know Shawn, I heard."

"If that asshole is a psychic, I'm the president!"

"I don't know, he might be a psychic. "

Shawn looked incredulously at his friend, his _best_ friend, who he'd known since diapers, who could not have said what Shawn thought he just said.

"Gus, Gus ,Gus. Buddy, mi amigo. Please, please, please tell me you're not considered that the man in there," Shawn pressed his finger against the glass, "the drunk giant, is a psychic?" He was practically begging at that point.

"What's the hold up boys?" The door opened to reveal Chief Vick, "I'm missing two detectives out there." Shawn's spirit soared. Vick was a strong and logical woman. She would put a swift end to all this ridiculousness.

"Chief! I was just telling Gus here that psychics do not exist."

Gus countered, "Shawn, he knew that I find you annoying without seeing us interact."

Shawn scoffed, "That's not news! Everyone who's ever met me thinks I'm annoying. I'm proud of it."

"He also knew what you were thinking about him! He knew about your parents."

"That proves nothing!"

Vick walked over to the glass and stopped short. She cursed under her breath and turned to the two detectives. "You know, maybe we should just trust him on this one. On second thought, if he is a psychic, we could have him consult on cases."

Shawn was mortified. Vick actually seemed to be considering the idea. "Chief!"

"Calm down, Detective Spencer. If he turns out to be a fake we can fire him." With that Chief Vick turned heel and left.

Shawn was in shock. The world had turned against him. He was having suck a good week! Then this shmuck had waltzed in and turned everything upside down. How could anyone expect him to work with that man?! Carlton Lassiter was an afront to logic, an insufferable jerk, and an insult to every hardworking citizen wih a real job.

Suddenly Shawn remembered something: he had one last chance. His own father, Henrey Spencer, was in charge of hiring consultants. Henrey would never hire someone like Carlton! He as he strictest, bluntest person Shawn had ever met–this wasn't over yet!

**Author's Note:**

> Long chapter, wow.


End file.
